Just a Vacation
by SaveTheDaleks
Summary: After Trenzalore, the Doctor decides to take his companion on a trip and a wedding to enjoy a danger-free few days with her. However, if there's one thing Clara learned in her travels, it's the fact that nothing ever goes to plan while traveling with the Doctor, and they end up in a very peculiar type of adventure. A mix between adventure and Clara/11. I don't own DW.


Clara Oswald woke up with a small start, immediately sitting up to examine her surroundings. She yawned loudly and shook her head, trying to snap out the rest of her body out of sleep. She fluttered her eyelashes to get rid of the slight blur in her vision. About six months back, she would always wake up slowly and rather drowsily – she was never a morning person. However, since she started traveling with the Doctor, she could never know in which bed she would find herself in. Ever since the incident at Trenzalore, there wasn't a night she slept through without experiencing nightmares, and she'd quite often alternate between waking up in her own room at the snog box and the Maitlands. Her nightmares seemed quite vivid and real, and would often be based on the deaths of some of her echoes, so the Doctor would often sit next to her while she was sleeping, ready to shake her awake whenever the nightmares became too horrible.

Today, however, she woke up inside her own small bed back at the Maitlands. She sank back into the mess of sheets she made in her sleepy state and closed her eyes. Her head was a mess, but she could vaguely remember why. Clara felt like this quite often since she had thousands of lives stored inside her head. At least waking up has become increasingly easier these past few days: the first several mornings after Trenzalore would often start in tears, screams and unbearable headaches.

Clara looked around the room and frowned when she leaned her head back to the pillow: most of her belongings were still there, nothing packed. Lately, she's has been feeling increasingly guilty over time for taking advantage of the hospitality of the Maitland family: she had moved into the TARDIS permanently, something her and the Doctor agreed on without any talk, but she didn't really leave the Maitlands yet. Even though she wouldn't trade living and traveling with the Doctor for anything, she still felt an obligation to the family, and would still work as their nanny. She had, however, announced she'd be leaving soon, to travel around the globe. That was a lie, of course – her travels would envelop so much more than just the globe.

She felt herself fading back to sleep again, so she took a deep breath, willing herself to ignore the inviting warmth of the bed. She forced herself on her feet. Now that she was standing, her hand jumped up to her temple when she felt the dull pain in her head. She didn't really know the reason her head hurt so much: she (surprisingly) doesn't remember having any nightmares. She realized she had no memory of yesterday evening's events, so she looked around the room. The Doctor has lately developed a habit of leaving explanations for everything, so she tried to find one.

Clara rolled her eyes and smiled when she looked at the alarm clock near her bed: the digital clock said it was 11:11 in the morning, probably due to the Doctor's tinkering with it. However, when she checked her phone she realized that it actually _was _eleven in the morning.

Hang on.

It's eleven in the morning, and she's just woken up. She was supposed to take the kids to school hours ago and had so many chores that needed to be done! However, traveling with the Doctor certainly had its advantages: she could use the TARDIS to go back in time and sort it out, right? Should she call the TARDIS? Her attention shifted to a small pink slip of paper on the top of her nightstand. A smile rushed to Clara's face when she recognized the neat handwriting: it was the Doctor's.

_Good morning, sleepyhead!_

_I hope you slept well! In case you're wondering why you've woken up back at the Maitlands, I found it safe to assume you've had enough adventures for one day once you tried to sleep on my chest right in the middle of our picnic on Aniorelis fifty-seven. Since you didn't appear to express any desire to... remove yourself from me, I tried to get to your room, but the TARDIS blocked off all the other corridors for some reason. I carried you back to your bed at the Maitlands, and you've been asleep there since midnight._

Clara giggled when she tried to imagine his flailing reaction when she collapsed into his arms, then continued reading the note.

_You might experience headaches or memory loss, but don't worry, you are absolutely fine. It's probably a side effect of a poisoning you experienced on one of our trips yesterday. Don't fret, the poison isn't fatal or dangerous and only manifests as alcoholic intoxication in your system. I didn't want to bother you in your sleep, so I took the liberty of making everyone breakfast, doing some of the chores and taking Angie and Artie to school. I know you might be tired, but if you're up for an adventure today, I'll be waiting for you in the garden. If not, come and say hello anyway. Help yourself for some Jammy dodgers._

_Love, the Doctor_

Clara read the whole letter and smiled. His signature was written in Gallifreyan – it was the only thing she managed to memorize in his language so far, and he seemed moderately proud about that. He's really trying his best to make everything easy for her, and she really doesn't know how to feel about that. She's very grateful, but annoyed because she felt like he was spoiling her. And what was that about Jammy dodgers? She found a small bowl next to the note that had nothing but a few crumbs inside it. Clara didn't have to really think about what happened to the cookies: the Doctor had an unrivaled love for Jammy dodgers. She wondered how the Maitlands reacted when the Doctor took Clara's job for today.

Clara never really felt comfortable about letting her friends linger at the house for too long, since it wasn't her own and she thought it would bother the Maitlands. However, in spite of Clara's claims that he once said he doesn't do domestic, the Doctor said he has matured and grown over that, and proved to be quite helpful around the house and the kids simply loved him. The mixture of his usual childish demeanor and the many amazing stories he could tell was probably very amusing to the them. The way the Maitlands saw it, the Doctor was her boyfriend, but she knew time-stream jumping would be way too complicated to explain, so neither Clara nor the Doctor didn't try, so they let the Maitland family think whatever they want.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Clara entered the garden, the sunlight making her eyes squint slightly. A blue phone box was parked right next to the rose bush. She knocked on the doors, expecting the Doctor to open up and greet her in his usual overly-excited hug, but after no one answered for about half a minute, she sighed and leaned against the wooden doors. Where has he gone off to now? Clara knew he had a habit of getting lost in the many endless corridors of his ship, but he would always leave the doors open so Clara could enter the snog box and call for him. This time, there was no clear indication that he was even there. She huffed in frustration and started walking back to the house, but a muffled yell from the phone box stopped Clara in her tracks.

She turned around and knocked again. She heard another yell and pressed her ear against the wooden surface of the doors in an attempt to recognize and clear up the noise.

"Doctor!" she shouted into the doors, unsure whether she should try to force it open.

"_Clara_?" The source of the voice was unmistakeably the Doctor, but he sounded like he was talking through something, like someone stuck a pillow over his face when he tried to speak.

"Open the doors already!" she shot back.

"_I can't move, can you help_?"

"What?"

"_I'm stuck, Clara, __had a bit of an accident, __c__ome and help me._"

"Well, snap your fingers, the doors are locked." she responded, remembering one of her echoes seeing him open the ship doors with a snap of the fingers.

"_That doesn't work anymore,__ you can open it yourself_!" he shouted, sounding slightly annoyed.

"Oh yeah, hang on a minute." she said when she realized that she actually _could _open the doors. She fumbled through the pockets of her gray jumper to find it. She really needed to take better care of it or she could lose it.

Clara would always smile when remembering that moment, when she was lying in the TARDIS sick bay, wired up on machinery, a day after she woke up after their departure from his time stream. He took her hands and said he was giving in again, so he begged her to not give up and asked her to run away with him officially. Of course, she said yes so he kissed her knuckles and slipped the small silver object between her fingers, and kissed her forehead, like the motion would increase her chances of survival. She knew it was only a key, but she also knew that was a very significant moment to the Doctor.

"Found it!" she said when she dug her hand out of her pocket and used the key to unlock the doors. She could never really get used to having bigger-on-the-inside pockets, but the Doctor insisted on it, saying it was a 'luxury of his companions to have cool stuff.' He even said he was going to manufacture her a screwdriver, which she seriously doubted.

Clara pushed open the door and stepped inside the ship. It was a bit darker than usual, and Clara assumed it was working on backup power. She rolled her eyes when she saw the Doctor's legs dangling out of a hole in the console, his whole upper body inside a small chasm in the floor. Evidently, he decided to tinker with the wires of his ship and got stuck in the process. Same as ever.

"Can you pull me out? I'll have you know this is a _very_ compromising position." he said in a muffled voice, wriggling his legs slightly to emphasize his point.

"I can see that. So, you're mine to do whatever I wish, aren't you?" she teased.

"Clara, don't say that, you're scaring me." he mumbled, sounding like he was panicking slightly.

With a sigh, Clara closed the doors of the TARDIS, walked up to the console and started tugging the Doctor's feet to pull him out of his very impractical working position. After a few seconds of pulling, she managed to pull him out enough to free his arms, to which the Doctor let out a victorious exclamation.

"Aha! Thank you, impossible girl, you save me once again!" he said as he managed to clamber out of the hole completely. They both sat down next to each other, leaning against the console. Clara laughed when she saw his face: his cheeks have gone a bit black, his hair was flopped over the ridiculously large golden goggles he was wearing, his shirt had large black smudges on it, and his chin was dirty and looked like he had a small beard. His purple bow tie, however, was still intact.

"You look absolutely ridiculous, what were you even doing in there?" she asked. He huffed in annoyance.

"I was taking care of Sexy, you know she needs me." he said cheerfully as he patted the console, to which the TARDIS responded with a soft hum. Clara didn't even bother saying anything about that: she was already used to him being too fond of the old cow. Even though it was no longer openly harassing her, Clara was thoroughly annoyed at how ungrateful the snog box was towards Clara, considering the fact her echo led the Doctor to it.

"I get that, but how does getting stuck like that take care of the TARDIS? How long have you been like that?" she asked, laughter mixed with words in her second question. The Doctor's answer was very quiet, but she caught that he said "three hours" and doubled over in laughter. He removed the goggles and pouted, waiting for Clara to get serious.

"And what have you been doing for three hours?" she asked in disbelief.

"Talking to the TARDIS." he answered sheepishly. "I was breaking her in, actually, trying to find out why she sealed off the corridors, and I managed to fix it, one of the circuits seems to have gone haywire, but it should be fine now. Then when I tried to get out, I got stuck. Slept well?" he asked hurriedly, hoping to steer the conversation away from himself.

"Just fine. I also read your note, thank you, Doctor." she said softly as she gave him a kiss on the cheek, to which he responded as usual, blushing furiously and arms beginning to jump slightly, on reflex. "Although you should have woken me, I don't want you to do everything by yourself."

"I know, I know. You looked so peaceful while asleep, I didn't want to disturb you." he answered matter-of-factly. She gave him a radiant smile, treasuring one of the few moments of him _not_ being awkward.

"And you lied about the Jammy dodgers." she said, with a hint of annoyance.

He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. "Clara, you know I love Jammy dodgers, what else did you expect? At least I took care of everything else, didn't I?"

"Yes, that was really nice of you, but I'm an adult, you know. I'm fine now, it's time to stop babying me." _Not that I mind it, though._

He scoffed. "Clara, that's ridiculous, I wasn't babying you, I was just being nice. I don't exactly abandon people who jump in my time stream, you know." he retorted. For the past few weeks, he seemed to be a bit more comfortable around Clara, and she still had unanswered questions and worries about that. Before Trenzalore, he was ever so distant, always brooding and distrustful when Clara wasn't looking. Now, however, he insisted on spending every second he could with her. She didn't mind it, but some of his behavior was beginning to confuse and worry her, and she knew a conversation needed to ensue soon.

"By the way, how are you doing with the memory-sorting thingy, any trouble?" he asked a bit more gently.

She sighed. "I think I'll be needing some help soon, but I'm good so far. Speaking of memories, why don't I remember what happened yesterday?"

"Ah, about that. I suppose the TARDIS _should_ restore your memories about the last twenty-four, just give the telepathic circuits some time. But, you may still not remember part of it due to being... well, poisoned." he said bluntly as he began fumbling with some wires near him again.

"But you said that poison wasn't really poison, that it was-"

"Alcohol, a sort of intoxication effect, correct. As usual, we got into trouble, Clara, and you ended up getting poisoned. However, the main ingredient of the poison was ethanol," he pointed out, flinching slightly when the wires sparked, "which didn't end up harming you but managed to get you... well, drunk." he finished lamely.

"Drunk? Was I very drunk? Did I do something naughty, Doctor?" she teased with a grin and a flirtatious wiggle of eyebrows.

He looked shocked. "Clara!" he exclaimed, scandalized. "You didn't, of course not, but you were being rather... cuddly." he reasoned, looking away, a ghost of a blush on his face.

"Why are you getting so flustered about that, you usually have no problem with being cuddly when you spoon with me in the middle of the night, remember?" she reminded him cheekily.

He looked back at her with wide eyes and his mouth opened and closed, like a goldfish. "Clara, you know that was the night after Trenzalore, it was for protection against nightmares, I-I would never-" he stammered, but was interrupted.

"Yeah, yeah. Excuses, excuses. Admit it, chin boy, you can't help yourself." she said in a sing-song voice, sounding very smug. After entering his time stream, and the Doctor took a liking to calling her 'the impossible girl' most of the time. Since then, Clara decided she needed to get him back for that, and she had plenty of ways, knowing almost all of his names, even his _real_ name, but she thought that Oswin's 'chin boy' was the best one so she started using it, and the Doctor stopped protesting after a while and became quite fond of the nickname.

He seemed to struggle for words for a moment, but then sighed heavily and leaned back against the console, slightly bumping the back of his head to the keyboard of the TARDIS database computer. "Fine, maybe I don't mind you being all cuddly, but you were drunk so it was all... wrong and, and... wobbly!" he refuted, raising his hands a bit to emphasize his statement.

"There's no need to be such a child, I've been drunk before, I can take care of myself." she pointed out.

"Yes, yes, but you weren't trying to use my chest as a pillow back then." he said, a hint of smugness in his words.

Clara sighed. Satisfied with his admission, she saw no point in continuing that conversation. "True enough." She chose to change the topic. "Anyway, I'm ready for an adventure, it's been too long since last time."

He grinned and clapped his hands. "Splendid! Where and when do you want to go now?"

"Well..." Clara started thinking. As she had lived thousands of lives across the whole universe, she could access some parts of the knowledge her echoes had gathered about the universe. After a week of adjusting, her mind managed to store the thousand lives vaguely in her mind, leaving a slight blur of images that only appeared when she was tired. Other than that, the jump into the Doctor's time stream wasn't too consequential, other than the nightmares and insight of all of her other lives. Right now, she could think of dozens attractive locations to visit.

"I know, we can go see the Alignment of Exedor, or, or... I know, how about the celebration of the Thousand Years of Peace of the Rescilion system!" She suggested location after location, excitement literally pouring out of her words.

"Actually, after these few weeks, Clara, I hoped that you would like if I took you on a vacation. Nice tropical planet, beaches, soaring sunsets and such. Just so we can relax a bit. As our first outing after... you know. No sinking soviet submarines, no Cybermen, no angry sun-gods, just you and me." he suggested with a hopeful glint in his eyes.

"That sounds lovely."

He grinned as Clara started talking about the things she was going to pack, but he started shuffling slightly, his face shifting into features Clara knew was uncertainty. She noticed he wasn't paying attention and was staring at a point above her head with a pointed expression, his eyes flickering slightly and his brow furrowing.

"What's wrong?"

He looked back at her and manufactured a fake smile. "Nothing, doesn't matter."

"I know that face, Doctor. Spill." she muttered in a commanding voice.

"I'd rather not, Clara." he said quietly. By the tone of his voice, Clara would usually assume he was remembering something, or thinking about a companion he lost, but she was having none of it. She knew him too well and knew he was trying to avoid something, but Clara has done too much for him to let him lock her out now.

"Doctor. I know you better than anyone, I was in your head, and I know what you're thinking. Something is bothering you, and you can tell me right now, or it will bounce around that head of yours for the next few days. What's it going to be?" she asked him sternly. He looked away for a few seconds and opened and closed his mouth few times, but then gave in.

"Fine. You're right." he acknowledged. Then he started speaking, his tone awkward and slightly apologetic. "A friend of mine, called Jack, has managed to get me an invitation to a... party, a wedding of sorts."

"What kind of wedding?" asked Clara, now interested.

"Apparently, it's on the same planet I wanted to take you to, and it should be very Earth-like, very 20th century, with things like celebrations and dinner and drinks and toasts and... dancing!" he mused, slightly excited at the last part.

"And why are you telling me this?" demanded Clara, although she was smirking because she knew where he was going with this and it was quite amusing to watch him in this state.

"Because he said I can come only if I... you know. Bring a lady friend. A plus one." he finished sheepishly, looking anywhere other than Clara.

"So?" she urged him to continue.

"So, so... I was wondering if you would, you know... accompany me. What do you say?" he finished, with just a tiny bit of certainty in his voice.

Clara raised her eyebrows and put on a (fake) shocked expression. "You're asking me to be your date on a wedding?" she asked in a mock disbelief tone. He looked at her and nodded almost imperceptibly, his eyes wide and pleading. He gulped when he saw Clara's eyebrows almost disappearing into her hairline. Then she couldn't help it anymore and broke out into a grin.

"Yes."

"Really?" he squeaked, his voice a few octaves too high.

"Of course, chin, I'd love to." she said, standing up. Even though she liked nothing better than watching him squirm, getting a few relaxing days and a party to spend with the Eleventh Doctor was something she looked forward to much more than she would ever consider admitting to him.

"Ah, good, very good!" He let out a sigh of relief and chuckled nervously.

"So who's getting married?"

The Doctor started setting the wires back to the their original places. "Ah, well, funny thing is, everybody knows Jack well, he's sort of a people person, and he gets invited to everything and everywhere, and... I have to admit I have no idea whose wedding it is." he admitted in his usual over-excited manner.

"Same as ever."

He nodded giddily. "Basically, yes." The wires resealed with the console and the TARDIS hummed back to its usual power. "There we go. So, you ready?"

"What, we're going now?" she asked, pleasantly surprised. She didn't really think he'd be so straightforward, and expected him to delay the vacation as much as he could. She liked the fact that even though she knows him better than anyone else in the universe, he could still surprise her.

He clapped his hands and made a face, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "You bet it's now, Clara Oswald! Anyway, I'm going to get dressed and pack up for our vacation, meet you back here in half, and even though I have nothing against what you're wearing now, you should get ready too." he said with a snicker when he saw her pajamas. "Blimey, my hands, I need a good bath. Remind me to wear gloves next time." he said once he inspected his hands, which were almost completely black. Clara observed as he casually jogged into the depths of his ship, arms flailing around with each footstep. She had to admit she was excited: if she didn't know better, she would think that the twelve hundred years of the Doctor's life had maybe even made him act... mature?

* * *

**A/N: **Hello! I've started writing a small fic, a mixture between romance featuring Clara/11 and some adventure, set after Trenzalore. They will also meet an old friend of the Doctor's.

You could say it's slightly AU, as the Eleventh Doctor doesn't regenerate at Trenzalore in my fic, he gets Clara out of his time stream and back to the TARDIS immediately. I've imagined and connected most of the plot details, but I didn't write down all of it yet. I know the first chapter is just conversations and such, but no worries – there will be some adventurous moments. I don't know how long this will be, I can have huge problems with inconsistency, but you can expect at least 20k words.

By the way, no worries, I'll explain the memory-sorting think later.

If you guys like it, please leave a review or follow/favorite, it will inspire me to update more often. If there is anything you guys want to see in this, please tell me and I'll try to find a way to place your ideas in the story.

Bye!


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